Both are likely to share the spotlight with a fresh crop of TV doctors, firefighters, a kid named Chris and an ex-con named Earl, thanks to Emmy rule changes aimed at giving newcomers and underdogs a better shot at U.S. television's highest honors. The winners will be announced on Aug. 27 in Los Angeles.

Even more than last year, when ABC's hot new Desperate Housewives clinched nominations for three of its stars and freshman castaway thriller Lost went on to claim the prize for best drama, this year's Emmy race is seen as wide open.

"The key story this year is the Emmy nominations should not look like a TV rerun," said Tom O'Neil, columnist for the Los Angeles Times entertainment award Web site TheEnvelope.com. "This new nominating system hopes to welcome in new blood from that second tier of TV channels that have not been represented strongly in the past."

That makes it tougher to handicap a process that long favored veteran shows and past nominees over newer offerings, though some perennial shoo-ins are expected to return.

Mob series "The Sopranos," a longtime Emmy darling that won for best drama in 2004 but sat out last year's contest due to a production hiatus, is heavily favored to muscle its way back into the race for the 58th annual awards.

And some experts give White House saga The West Wing, a four-time winner for top drama, a good chance of making the cut one last time for its critically acclaimed but low-rated final season, which drew to a close in May.

Hospital hit Grey's Anatomy, which just completed its first full US season, also is heavily favored to break into the pack just as Lost did last year.

Among other nominees announced Thursday, Andy Garcia earned noms in the best director and film actor for his work on "Lost City." Robert Rodriguez picked up two bids in the director category for "Sharkboy" and "Sin City," Antonio Banderas has two bids in the lead actor category -- for "Lead" and "The Legend of Zorro" -- and John Leguizamo rounds out the lead actor category for "Sueno."

Lead actress noms went to America Ferrera for "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants," Jessica Alba for "Fantastic Four," Cameron Diaz for "In Her Shoes" and Ines Sastre for "Lost City."

In television, top program noms went to NBC's "The West Wing," ABC's "George Lopez," NBC's "ER" and HBO's "Epitafios" and telefilm "Walkout."

"West Wing's" Jimmy Smits and sitcom star George Lopez earned mentions in the lead TV actor category alongside "Walkout's" Michael Pena, Danny Pino of CBS' "Cold Case" and Edward James Olmos of Sci Fi Channel's "Battlestar Galactica." On the distaff side, noms went to Alexa Vega of "Walkout," Constance Marie of "George Lopez," Rosa Blasi of Lifetime's "Strong Medicine," Lisa Vidal of Lifetime's "Odd Girl Out" and Vanessa Hudgens of Disney Channel's "High School Musical."

Winners in these and nine other categories will be announced August 18 at the Beverly Hilton in Beverly Hills. The eligibility period for this year's awards is April 1, 2005-April 30.

Reuters/Hollywood Reporter

Given the power of incumbency, that rebel spirit lies dormant in most elections, especially in Pennsylvania. In a May 4 op-ed piece in The Morning Call, political analysts G. Terry Madonna and Michael Young wrote that state legislative incumbents are more likely to retire, die in office or leave due to legal problems than be defeated at the polls.

If the May 16 p rimary wasn't quite a revolution, it was at least a Boston Tea Party. Seventeen incumbents lost their seats, including Rep. Paul Semmel, R-Lehigh, and Senate leaders Robert Jubelirer, R-Blair, and David Brightbill, R-Lebanon. The lesson: You can't pass an illegal pay raise at 2 a.m. without waking voters.

But even when real government was depressing, I escaped political cynicism once a week by turning on NBC's ''The West Wing.'' The show came to an end last week. I'm still in mourning.

At its core, ''West Wing'' was a love letter to American democracy. It showed people on both sides of the political aisle wheeling and dealing and spinning and arguing. Taking principled stands and swallowing painful compromises. Facing the hard choices of governing. In one episode, secretary Donna Moss begs presidential aide Sam Seaborn not to reveal to a friend seeking a pardon for her dead grandfather that he was a Soviet spy.

''It was people pushing paper around 50 years ago, what does it matter?'' she asks.

Seaborn responds: ''It was high treason, and it mattered a great deal. This country is an idea and one that has lit the world for two centuries, and treason against that idea is not just a crime against the living. This ground holds the graves of the people who died for it. Who gave what Lincoln called 'the last full measure of devotion,' of fidelity.''

Granted, liberals and moderates usually ruled the day. But the arguments on all sides were more intelligent and thought-provoking than most of the real life talking heads' shouting matches that pass for national discourse. In one episode, presidential aide Toby Ziegler rattles off the benefits of free trade and gives a lesson in speech writing, all in about 30 seconds. He says:

''Food is cheaper. Clothes are cheaper. Steel is cheaper. Cars are cheaper. Phone service is cheaper. You feel me building a rhythm here? That's because I'm a speech writer, I know how to make a point. It lowers prices and raises income. Do you see what I did with 'lowers' and 'raises' there? It's called the science of listener attention. We did repetition, we did floating opposites, and here comes the one that's not like the others. Ready? Free trade stops wars … and we figure out how to fix the rest.''

''West Wing'' could be a great teaching tool for years to come. Lehigh Valley high schools could air an episode each week and use 20 minutes of social studies class to get students debating the issues it raises, even relatively arcane ones. The series' creator, Aaron Sorkin, wrote the most entertaining show about the filibuster since Frank Capra's ''Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.''

The writing was just that good. In a special episode on terrorists soon after the Sept. 11 attacks, deputy chief of staff Josh Lyman tells a group of high school students, ''Remember pluralism. You want to get these people? I mean really reach in and kill 'em where they live? Keep accepting more than one idea. Makes 'em absolutely crazy.''

I wish I'd written that. But it's back to political reality — made more interesting by the overthrow of arrogance in the May 16 primary. I'll have to take my inspiration from that.

The West Wing was, of course, about the major crises, everyday dramas and emotional goings-on in a Democratic White House during the administration of President Josiah (Jed) Bartlet, played to paternal perfection by Martin Sheen.

Political junkies, including me, couldn't get enough of the passionately liberal administration, which effectively offered a utopian vision during the years of George W. Bush, presenting taut and witty episodes on everything from foreign-policy imbroglios to domestic scandals.

But there was another reason I stayed glued to The West Wing: It presented the idea of near-perfect collegiality, depicting a small group of pathologically articulate, blazingly intelligent people (Josh Lyman, the deputy chief of staff, was a Fulbright scholar, and the president, a former economist, was a Rhodes scholar) working together.

They knew each other's strengths and foibles, and they exchanged delicious rapid-fire repartee, often while walking hurriedly down the corridors of power.

Never has the word "yeah" uttered at breakneck speed seemed more resonant. Their conversation one minute centred on the merits of gun control and then swerved to who had stayed out partying all night or slept at his desk and was, therefore, in the same rumpled suit the next morning.

And never has there been such wisecracking in an office, and yet no real cynicism toward each other. From Toby Ziegler to Josh Lyman, C.J. Craig to Leo McGarry (played with full-out heart and intellect by actor John Spencer, who died of a heart attack before the final episode could be filmed), these characters harangued each other, inspired each other and protected each other, all in the service of a common goal: keeping their administration afloat.

Well, I said it was a utopia. In fact, The Globe's Jeffrey Simpson, who has been around his share of politicos, wrote that the one great unreality about the series was that there was not enough backbiting among the senior staff.

That's probably true, but millions of viewers, fresh from the foibles of their own working weeks, obviously didn't care.

From the very first episode, these colleagues were tight. Way back, Josh was about to lose his job after he had glibly insulted a right-wing Christian leader on television. His senior colleague, Toby, desperately trying to find a way to save him, offered advice about apologizing, and then said bitingly: "I don't want this gesture to be mistaken for an indication that I like you." But it was clear he adored him.

Through blunders of global magnitude, assassination attempts, boatloads of Cubans arriving, inept campaigning, firings, resignations, tears, love affairs and more policy wonking than is healthy, The West Wing team got to the soul of what it was like to blend your ideals and your career. It embodied the notion of how satisfying it is to work with like-minded people in the cause of something worthwhile. This shouldn't be a utopia -- but these days, it more likely than not seems to be.

Recently, I have heard very successful people, while reflecting about themselves and their careers, say that the decision of who you choose to work with is almost more important than what project or work you actually choose to do.

Imagine working with people who know you so well they finish your phrases (and not just to claim glory for your ideas).

They laugh at your jokes even when you aren't funny, protect your back in public and then pound you out verbally in private when you've screwed up.

"You look like hell," Toby says to Josh in that very first episode. By the last episode, they all pretty much looked like hell, which was a poignant mirroring of aging in real life, and a dramatic portrayal of how much wear and tear those high-level jobs -- or even just acting them out -- puts on people.

In the final episode, there was a newly elected president -- to really complete the fantasy, another Democrat -- taking office, there were new romantic liaisons, one staffer got pardoned for an idealistic crime he'd committed and our favourite assistant, Donna, finally got the plum job she deserved, plus a love relationship with her former boss. President Bartlet departed from our lives on a plane, looking out the window, his expression at once nostalgic and relieved as he no doubt reflected on what they'd all shared.

The West Wing, to me, was a ridiculously glamorous working life ideal. It was, in all its hokey idealism, the exact opposite of the hilarious but ultimately cynical show The Office, depicting all managers as useless boobs and everybody out for themselves.

So here's a question: Is anyone out there working in what they consider an ideal collegial environment? Is anyone utterly enamoured, not to mention proud, of the teamwork at their workplace?

If so, I'd love to hear your real-life descriptions of an office team that really works, a group of colleagues who evoke the kind of loyalty and passion seen on The West Wing. Consider it a public service -- methadone for me as I withdraw from the utopia of working life depicted on The West Wing.

For fans of consummate actor John Spencer, who gave rich, full-blooded life to former White House chief of staff–turned–vice presidential candidate McGarry, the Election Day Part II episode of this critically acclaimed show was heartbreaking indeed. Spencer unexpectedly died of a heart attack in a Los Angeles hospital Dec. 16, just four days short of his 59th birthday. The actor's death not only changed the course of The West Wing's final season but also left fans, friends, and fellow actors in a state of stunned sorrow and disbelief.

One of Spencer's great gifts, as an actor and as a human, was his ability to empathize and be fully alive and in the moment. One had only to look at his wonderfully careworn face, which seemed to have the map of his life spread across it, to understand that he intimately knew all the extreme pains and joys of life, as well as all the in-betweens. His character could be glowering in disgust at some Republican ridiculousness one minute, then offer a compassionate arm of support to a faltering friend in the next. Despite the years that draped his countenance, there was also a youthful energy about him. And when he turned on the charm and flashed that pixyish grin, it seemed impossible he could be mortal enough to die.

But mortal he was, with all the purities and flaws, strengths and weaknesses, and successes and failures we all have. And he never tried to hide any of that life experience. Like his fictional West Wing counterpart, Spencer was a recovering alcoholic, and he knew the cost of living with and battling that demon. But actor and character were known for being deeply loyal, generous, and devoted to their chosen professions, in which they found great joy and personal satisfaction at being able to be of service in ways great and small. "Like Leo, I've always been a workaholic, too," Spencer told The Associated Press during a 2000 interview. "Through good times and bad, acting has been my escape, my joy, my nourishment. The drug for me, even better than alcohol, was acting."

Spencer brought it all with him when he performed, using what was needed at the time to infuse the roles he inhabited with an unparalleled honesty that brought him the respect of his peers; the appreciation of millions of fans who saw him work onstage, on television, and in film; and plenty of recognition at awards time. For five consecutive years, from 2000 to 2004, he received Emmy nominations for outstanding supporting actor in a drama series. He proudly took the statue home in 2002. In 2000 he won the Viewers for Quality Television Award in that category; in 2001 he received a TV Guide Award nomination, in 2003 a Golden Globe nom. And every year from 2001 to 2006, he and the West Wing cast garnered outstanding performance by an ensemble in a drama series nods from the Screen Actors Guild, winning the award in '01 and '02. In addition, his stage work brought him an Obie Award for Still Life, as well as a Drama Desk nomination for The Day Room.

"John was a first-rate actor and a real class act as a human being," commented Joshua Malina, who played Will Bailey on West Wing. "He was funny, biting, and compassionate. He was the paragon of the actor's actor: He ate, drank, lived, and breathed the craft. This was never more evident than in his reaction to the work of others. He always had something insightful and positive to say about another actor's performance."

As Charlie Young, the former personal aide to the president who later moved up to assistant to the chief of staff, Dulé Hill worked with Spencer from the very beginning of the show. Like Malina and many other cast members who were extensively quoted at the time of Spencer's death, Hill holds his friend in great esteem. "John was an amazing individual who was dedicated to his work," he said. "Whenever you were in a scene with John he always made you better. It was so easy with him. I couldn't help but react whenever I was in a scene with him. The things I will remember most about John is his laugh, his smile, and his flip-flops. I will miss him greatly, but more importantly, I am glad that I had the honor of knowing him, and I am forever thankful that I was blessed enough to have a chance to work with someone as remarkable as John Spencer."

In a Sept. 16, 2000, interview with Terence Smith of the PBS website Online News Hour, Spencer ex-plained his approach to creating the role that he will surely be most remembered by: Leo McGarry. "It's always important for me, as an actor, to reflect human behavior for a sense of reality," Spencer explained. "So this role is no more or less important than any other role, concerning the reality factor. I mean, I think art, at best, holds up a mirror to humanity. And unless we are real human beings, something's phony there, and it's not going to be as effective.

"I had no idea how the public would respond," he continued, in answer to a question about how audiences would react to the issue-based drama. "I heard two trains of thought. One was that people, with the [Clinton] impeachment trials, would be fed up with government issues. The last thing they'd want to watch is a show about government. Another point of view was, well, they'll kind of be 'jonesing' for, you know, another injection of governmental issues. You're just going to be coming in at the right time. I had no idea. In the arts, you do your best. You put it out there. You have your own belief about the quality of what you're doing. And then, what the public is going to do or not do is sort of just up in the air. You never know.

"I've done good things, or things I've thought were good, that found no audience. And I've done things that I thought were so-so and have found a great audience. So you can't predict that. That's the sort of chance unknown in the equation. It's a little scary. All you can do is do the best job," he concluded.

And that Spencer most certainly did.

Life and politics in the parallel universe of NBC’s drama ‘‘The West Wing’’ is coming to a close after seven seasons, and devoted fans like Kingston Town Administrator Kevin Donovan aren’t quite sure what they’re going to do without it.

‘‘Once it’s gone, I don’t know,’’ said Donovan, who has followed the fate and fortunes of fictional

Democratic President Josiah Bartlet and his White House staff since the series premiered in 1999.

‘‘I may have to venture out into the world now,’’ joked Boston viewer Anna Porter, who’s 24 and has been a regular on ‘‘West Wing’’ Internet message boards.

Admired by Democrats and Republicans alike - though more by Democrats - ‘‘The West Wing’’ collected dozens of Emmys and other awards with its realistic story line and a star-stocked ensemble that featured Martin Sheen as Bartlet, Jimmy Smits as Texas Congressman and newly-elected President Matt Santos, and Alan Alda as Sen. Arnold Vinick, the California Republican whom Santos defeated in this season’s election.

With behind-the-scenes emulations of Washington policy and campaigning, ‘‘The West Wing’’ attracted a stellar audience, too - among, them, former President Bill Clinton and former first lady Hillary Rodham Clinton.

Sen. Edward Kennedy is a fan, as are spokeswoman Melissa Wagoner and most other Kennedy staffers. (‘‘Everybody needs a weekly break from the Bush administration,’’ Wagoner quipped.)

U.S. Rep. William Delahunt has tuned in from time to time, while his communications director, Steven Broderick, says he and fellow staff members have often gathered to watch episodes.

‘Refreshing vision’

For Oklahoma State English and film studies professor Peter Rollins, there’s no mystery to the source of the show’s passionate following.

‘‘Bartlet was everything many people wanted to see Bill Clinton stand for,’’ said Rollins, who co-edited a volume of essays about ‘‘The West Wing.’’ Consequently, he said, ‘‘viewers embraced the imaginary president to make up for the disappointment.’’

Rollins faults the show for paying scant attention to Congress and the Supreme Court - a dramatic necessity but a political distortion - but he credits the series for depicting a president and staff who worked for the public good. At a time when cynicism about government is deep, ‘‘that vision was refreshing,’’ Rollins said.

For liberal viewers, perhaps, though not for high-level Republicans like Quincy native Ron Kaufman.

As a strategist for former President George H.W. Bush in the late 1980s, Kaufman was an authentic West Winger. He watched a couple of first-season episodes of ‘‘The West Wing’’ in 1999 and hasn’t bothered since.

‘‘It’s great if you like science fiction,’’ said Kaufman, who’s now a GOP consultant. ‘‘It’s so slanted ... and so unlike the White House I worked in.’’ (Or the current President Bush’s West Wing, he added.)

Delahunt’s communications director, Broderick, and Bridgewater-Raynham High School senior Josh Begley beg to differ. Begley - who has watched since the sixth grade - thinks the show consistently portrayed Republicans with respect, while Broderick said the episodes look and sound very much like the Washington in which he’s worked for seven years.

‘‘People would ask me, ‘Is it really like that?’’’ Broderick said. ‘‘And I’d tell them, ‘Yeah, it is.’’’

‘What the world could be’

‘‘The West Wing’’ was anchored in the real world from the start, with themes ranging from Middle East tensions and Darfur killings to illegal immigrants and the religious right. (Not to mention Bartlet’s efforts to keep Russia and China from going to war.)

Hollywood writer Aaron Sorkin created the series in the wake of the success of his 1995 film, ‘‘The American President,’’ which starred Michael Douglas as a widowed president who falls in love. (Sheen had a role in that film.)

Rollins traces the TV show’s origins a little further back, to ‘‘The War Room,’’ a documentary about the 1992 Clinton campaign.

The ‘‘West Wing’’ pilot aired in September 1999, seven months after Clinton was acquitted of impeachment for perjury and obstruction of justice in the investigation of the Monica Lewinsky affair.

Perhaps as an escape from a hostile-Republican-controlled Congress, Clinton embraced the show from the start, and hosted cast members at White House press-corps dinners. Out of office, he suggested plot ideas. Sheen and other stars in turn appeared at Democratic events, while Capitol Hill staffers signed up to be extras when the show came to Washington for filming.

At its peak, ‘‘The West Wing’’ had an audience of 17 million. Last year NBC decided to cancel it and switched it from Wednesday to Sunday, where it has drawn an average of 8 million viewers in recent months.

The big controversy in the show was not a presidential affair, but Bartlet’s multiple sclerosis. His disclosure was a scripted re-election issue for the 2002 season.

Last November, in an acclaimed episode that wasn’t scripted, the show aired a live presidential debate between Alda (as Vinick) and Smits (as Santos).

The show’s writers did have to script a real-life tragedy into the final season - the death of actor John Spencer, who played Bartlet adviser and Santos running mate Leo McGarry. In an April episode, McGarry has a fatal heart attack on election night, as the returns give Santos the election.

Fans like Kingston Administrator Kevin Donovan and Bridgewater student Josh Begley won’t be going to farewell parties, though Begley may wear his ‘‘West Wing’’ souvenir shirt to school on Monday.

Instead, they’ll all settle in front of the TV one last time, toast their beloved show and ponder ‘‘what the world could be like,’’ as Delahunt staffer Steven Broderick put it, if it were more like ‘‘West Wing.’’

Bartlet’s highs and lows

1999: Orders Syrian targets bombed after U.S. plane is shot down by terrorists

2000: Verbally attacks a conservative radio host

2001: Tells the country he has multiple sclerosis

2002:Re-elected; orders assassination of Mideast official behind a terror plot

2003: Sends troops to Africa to stop genocide

2004: Names first female Supreme Court chief justice, oversees Palestinian-Israeli peace deal

2005: Aide Toby Zeigler fired, later convicted of leaking classified info

2006: Sends troops to Kazakhstan to avoid Russian-Chinese war

John Wells of "ER" and Marc Cherry of "Desperate Housewives" joined Writers Guild of America officials at a hotel news conference to criticize the encroachment of products into scripts.

The WGA timed the event to coincide with the networks' "upfronts," when thousands of advertisers converge in Manhattan for the unveiling of fall schedules.

"By the time we realize that we've gone too far we will have chased away some of the elusive audience that we worked so hard to get," Wells said.

Wells gave an example of a meeting he attended by the makers of presidential limousines at which it was suggested that an entire episode of his recently ended show "The West Wing" be built around their product.

"It was very, very uncomfortable to say that while I admired the construction of their limousine, the viewers of 'The West Wing' would probably not respond well to an entire episode about the car," Wells said.

At a breakfast with reporters, CBS Corp. Chief Executive Leslie Moonves said he was somewhat sympathetic.

"There's no question that it's important that these discussions be appropriately held with our creative people," Moonves said. "That's what we are doing, what we are trying to do and will continue that."

The Writers Guild event drew a muted response from J. Nicholas Counter, president of the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers.

"There is a mechanism for dealing with this and we would welcome a meeting on the subject," Counter said.

Patric Verrone, president of the Writers Guild of America, West, said writers were becoming increasingly concerned as the lines between advertising content and story lines blur. At the behest of broadcast and cable networks, product integration has expanded from reality shows to scripted fare.

In addition to Wells and Cherry, Verone was joined by Neal Baer of NBC's "Law & Order: SVU" and Dave Rupel of Bravo's "The Real Housewives of Orange County."

The use of paid "product integration" has become prevalent in television as advertisers grapple for ways to ensure that more people see their commercial messages rather than zip through them using digital video recorders such as TiVo.

Cherry said he's been able to say no to products that don't feel right for his show, but less successful writers and producers might not have the clout to do so.

"Ultimately, the writer is the gatekeeper of the quality, and Lord knows it's not the network or the studio or the advertisers," he said. "We're the ones who take care of the baby."

That sensation -- the one that makes your heart rise and your back stiffen, causes you to stand just a bit taller and vow to do good -- is an emotion The West Wing has inspired through most of its seven-year run. But tonight NBC will air the final episode, titled Tomorrow, even though declining ratings have made sure that day will never come for the series.

President Josiah ''Jed'' Bartlet (Martin Sheen) will step down; President-elect Matt Santos (Jimmy Smits) will step up. And millions of dreamers will lose that one hour of the week when they can pretend that the most famous inhabitants of Washington, D.C., are intelligent, thoughtful, industrious, honest, honorable -- and liberal.

WALK AND TALK

The West Wing is labeled a drama, but cynicism would suggest it's more fantasy than reality, reflective more of what we wish we were rather than what we truly are. But that seductive message -- we can and must strive to be better -- has always been an element of what makes the show so addictive. We know a president isn't going to allow a political enemy to take his place temporarily or put a member of the opposing party on the Supreme Court. But it was always pleasant, and maybe even necessary, to believe those things could happen, at least under the entertaining auspices of this fictional administration.

The West Wing first aired in 1999, at a time when politics didn't play a big part on TV shows. It won nine Emmys in its first season, the most ever for a drama series. Won Best Drama Series its first four years, too. Creator Aaron Sorkin, who wrote the screenplay for the film The American President, perfected the rapid-fire walk-and-talk style he toyed with on his short-lived Sports Night, propelling his characters all over the White House with lively wit and noble purpose.

But despite its roots in romantic comedy tradition, the show never shied from serious issues: abortion, religion, education, health care, Middle East relations (often with the oppressive fictional country of Qumar, which bears more than a passing resemblance to Saudi Arabia). The writers took up political -- almost exclusively Democratic -- positions.

The show was the first scripted TV series to indirectly address 9/11. In a matter of weeks, Sorkin wrote and shot Isaac and Ishmael, which aired Oct. 3, 2001, in which he put the White House under lockdown because of a terrorist threat. Unlike the hawkish Jack Bauer on the brawny (and considerably more brainless) 24, the characters don't fight their way out, guns blazing. They sit and discuss -- sometimes emotionally, sometimes logically -- the subject likely to define the rest of our lifetimes. Just like we do.

Sorkin left after Season 4, taking most of the light-hearted dialogue with him. We lost Rob Lowe that year in a salary dispute, too. The good news is that Lowe's (sort-of) replacement was longtime Sorkin collaborator Joshua Malina as congressman-to-be Will Bailey. But Season 5 was, to be kind, not The West Wing to which we were accustomed. And yet the show bounced back in its final two years, resurrecting exciting storylines and the missing humor and introducing terrific cast members as Santos and Republican Arnold Vinick (Emmy nominee Alan Alda) battled it out to be Bartlet's successor.

Still, the regulars -- well-defined, realistically flawed, absolutely irresistible -- are what kept us interested. We rooted for Bartlet, his brains, his hopes, his leadership, his courage in fighting MS. We wished he were real but were happy we had him at all: Sorkin's original idea was to never show the president, a plan that would have consistently flummoxed the writers and prevented us from enjoying the fantasy as much as we did. (We would have also missed Sheen's unforgettable entrance in the pilot episode, as he bursts into a fractious meeting quoting the First Commandment: ''I am the Lord thy God,'' he intones, and you believe it.)

A LONG FRIENDSHIP

We were fascinated with the dynamics of Bartlet's decades-long friendship with chief of staff Leo McGarry (John Spencer, whose death late last year added almost unbearable poignancy to the tense election episodes). We admired C.J. Cregg (the fantastic Allison Janney, in what will unfortunately probably be the role of a lifetime) for her almost seamless transition from press secretary to replacement chief of staff, and we grieved over the firing of communications director Toby Ziegler (Richard Schiff), whose banishment was painful testament to the peril of following your heart in politics.

We laughed at the antics of Bartlet deputy chief of staff/Santos campaign manager Josh Lyman (Bradley Whitford) even as we marveled at his relentless dedication and groaned at his seven years -- seven freaking years! -- of blindness in regard to his feelings for his assistant Donna Moss (Janel Moloney, who blossomed as her role expanded from secretary to political operative). Just hand Whitford another Emmy right now: He has continued to ground the series after it split into two separate shows, one on the campaign trail, the other at the White House. Josh's inevitable comeuppances have always been essential to the show's comedy, and Whitford has always been funny. But this year his performance has taken on renewed depth as Josh faced his mentor's death on the biggest day of his political career and is forced, finally, to sort out those complicated feelings that landed him in bed with the woman he loves but is too pig-headed to admit.

It's the unerring ability of its characters to rise above challenges or personal blindness that in the end defines The West Wing. As Bartlet, at his second inauguration, told Will Bailey: ''Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful and committed citizens can change the world. You know why?'' ''It's the only thing that ever has,'' replied Will. That exchange echoes the truth about everyone who had anything to do with the smart, mesmerizing, thoroughly wonderful TV world about that ''glorious prison on Pennsylvania Avenue'' that always felt more like a glorious escape.

But if The West Wing was one of the brainiest shows on TV, it was also never without heart. And this was most apparent in the relationship between White House staffer Josh Lyman and his assistant Donna Moss, whose intelligence was outweighed only by her loyalty to her boss. Actors Bradley Whitford and Janel Moloney turned the standard "will they or won't they?" dance on its head, creating smart, unpredictable characters that quickly became fan favorites.

Though West Wing wrapped production weeks ago, Whitford hasn't gone far, physically speaking. His office on the Warner Bros. lot is yards from where he shot the hit show, and he recently filmed a role in Sorkin's new pilot, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. When Moloney comes to pay him a visit, it's like returning home--though she wonders if her WB pass will still work (it does). The two instantly fall into their familiar rapport, displaying the natural chemistry and mutual respect that translated onscreen for seven years.

Back Stage: How did you land the roles of Josh and Donna? Is it true you both auditioned for other parts originally?

Janel Moloney: I auditioned for C.J. [played by Allison Janney.

Bradley Whitford: You're kidding!

Moloney: But I don't think anybody was serious about me for the part. I had already worked with Aaron and Tommy, and I think they wanted to give me the chance to audition with a big part.

Whitford: So you'd have a good piece of meat to gnaw on.

Moloney: Right. They just wanted to give me the shot. I think I knew when I went in I wasn't right for C.J.; I didn't feel quite old enough or substantial enough to do it.

Whitford: I originally auditioned for Josh, but after a long process, I was kind of offered Sam [played by Rob Lowe]. I think what was happening was they were having difficulty making a deal on the Sam part, and eventually my agent called and said, "Well, you're in the show, but you're Sam." And I got really upset because I thought I was Josh, even though beggars can't be choosers. So I called Aaron and said, "I love the show and really want to be on it, but I really want to be Josh." He said, "Yeah, I think you may be right."

Back Stage: Didn't you worry you might be talking yourself out of any part?

Whitford: Yeah, and I gave myself room to backtrack. But I felt very strongly about it. It becomes abstract on a television show, because the writing tends to follow the actors' strengths, hopefully. So Sam would have been a different part with me in it. There was just something about the position of Josh and his inappropriate intensity in the pilot that I really wanted to do.

Back Stage: Your characters quickly became fan favorites because of your chemistry. Was the relationship in the script from the beginning, or was it something you decided to hint at?

Moloney: Unfortunately, I was only hired for the pilot. I wasn't part of the regular cast. And I remembered that every day because I would have to walk a half a mile away to my trailer without a toilet. But in the pilot script, Josh was about to get fired, and it showed a dynamic between Josh and Donna that was really important for me as an actor to be able to show, which was fierce loyalty. I think it just stood out. It was this great part; it was a petite part, but there was a funny scene and a little bit of a sexy scene…

Whitford: ...and underneath it all there was a big devotion.

Moloney: I think the whole relationship was kind of there right from the first. And because Aaron Sorkin hadn't written past the script he was shooting, he saw what was happening between us, which I wasn't even aware of.

Whitford: I loved her immediately. I remember going behind the monitor and saying to Aaron and Tommy, "God, I love her."

Moloney: So I think right away we had something that popped and was obvious to everyone. I didn't know it at the time, because I was just so concerned about doing a good job and making my scenes as true as I could and creating a character that was whole, as opposed to someone they were going to send home next week because she wasn't special.

Whitford: I didn't care about the scene; I just liked her. But I think it was in that first episode that I realized [that] part of what was fun about the relationship was kind of an Archie-Edith [Bunker] thing. Archie always thought he was the smartest guy and was always trumped by Edith, who was the wise one. In our relationship, I was always the hotshot Washington kid who needed a lot of ego to function, and people assumed I was in charge--when the truth was I couldn't have done anything without her.

Back Stage: Donna is a great example of a character that began small but became a regular. Is there a key to making that smaller role stand out?

Whitford: Sleep with the writer.

Moloney: And the director. You have to have a lot of things going for you, because there are a lot of great actors out there. I had a real feel for this part that I felt very strongly about. I felt integral to the show. Part of my personality is just overestimating my importance to all things that I'm a part of. I think I wanted so badly to be a part of it that I was determined somehow. I was like, "No, I'm not leaving. Find a place for me." That said, there were a lot of things working for me. One was that we had this great chemistry. Another was that they needed the character to explain stuff and be kind of the chorus--and I don't think they even realized how much they needed that at first.

Whitford: She was sort of the Everyperson who was the audience's access to otherwise intimidating material. She was the voice of common sense and the one who wasn't totally co-opted and indoctrinated by the profession.

Moloney: That's true. I had other things going for me. One thing I really feel in retrospect that I did and always try to do as an actor is try to make it bigger than the material. I decided early on that this was a passionate, deep love relationship where my character was mad, head over heels in love. Because that's drama--that's fun. A little bit of love's not fun for anybody. And it's easy to play and there's always something you can go to if you ever have a question of how to play the scene. It expanded from there, it's not like that's all the character was ever about. But I think it made the relationship special because there wasn't really anything like that on the show. And you can't get rid of a hot, burning romance on your hit show. It was a very easy thing to do because we get along so great and we have such a good time together.

Everybody who's been on the show has been great. But whenever I see an actor come on the show who doesn't stand out, you realize it's because they're not elevating it and bringing something to it that's not in the script. Does that sound egotistical?

Whitford: No, I think what you're hesitating about saying is what I'm hesitating about saying. Because the carnage all around of great actors who don't have this kind of luck is heartbreaking. It's not like great playwrights come along and there are just no actors who are good enough to play it. They're waiting. There's so much talent out there.

But what you're saying is right. There's something about taking your character and yourself seriously. I think of Michael O'Neill [who played Secret Service Agent Ron Butterfield], who just came on with such conviction. He was just using all of himself from the first day he walked in and briefed the president on security. You were like, "This guy has a heart and a home, and this guy's for real."

Moloney: People who auditioned and didn't get on the show would say, "We were told to keep it fast and simple." I don't think that was ever any of our approaches.

Whitford: Here's a tip if you're auditioning for Aaron or Tommy: Get the lines down absolutely cold. Not so that you can fulfill their line reading, because they honestly don't really have it. But you treat them like a playwright. And the more secure you are with it, the freer you can be and the more you can make it yours.

I think being a guest star on an ongoing TV show can be a nightmare, and I've done it a lot. You're walking into this family who's very comfortable where they are, and you have to jump on the train and be artificially comfortable. That's a very hard thing to do. Preparation is key. The more ready you are, the more relaxed you'll be. It's the same with auditions. You have to know that 99% of auditions you're not going to get.

Moloney: That's low.

Whitford: I think the best way for me to go into auditions psychologically was to say, "You're not going to get it. This is the only acting experience you're going to have with this material."

Moloney: "This is your job."

Whitford: Because then instead of it being the purely psychological damaging thing that auditioning is, you can look at it as experience. And that you can control. You can't control whether or not these morons cast you. And I say that with love.

Back Stage: What has helped you through the leaner times?

Whitford: My dear friend Jack Daniels.

Moloney: I was going to say that.

Whitford: It's hard. There's no way to be any good and not take it personal. There's no way to have a level of commitment that will take you to a good place as an actor where you can just let it go. The hardest thing about being an actor, for me, is that if you are the 0.00001% of individuals who wants to do it, you're a freak. And you're an assertive freak. Though actors are often shy, there's this tremendous assertive extroversion in you somewhere.

Moloney: Like the part of me that said, "I'm integral to this show." It's almost a little crazy--and you almost have to be a little crazy to think that anybody's going to want to pay a hundred dollars to watch you get up on a stage and jump around for two hours.

Whitford: There's this slow-motion car wreck between this assertive quality and this business that renders you totally passive. And I don't think there's a resolution to it.

Moloney: As Robert Duvall said, "Hobbies, hobbies, hobbies." Which I think is true and the healthy way. I got so hurt so many times; I was so heartbroken and devastated. You have to put your heart and soul and body and time into a role and do the best you can and have real criteria for what your work is and cultivate that. The other stuff, you just have to let it go and know that that's not your business. Getting a job is not your business. Being the best you can is.

I never felt like it was rejection, in a funny way. I was just pissed because I wanted the job. And it's actually kind of a healthier way to be. I joked before about being so entitled and feeling I was a part of this. I remember Aaron used to say to me, "Janel, I couldn't get you in the script." And I would be furious. I couldn't believe it. I still, to this day, won't get roles, and I think it's insane. You might be delusional and overly supportive of yourself, but at least you're not blaming yourself.

Whitford: You have to tell yourself they're wrong. The other frustrating, crazy thing about being an actor is that it's not like you're trying to play the violin in the New York Philharmonic and you're just not making it. When you're auditioning and your career is nowhere and you're just not getting it and then you go and see the movie you went out for and it stinks. So you're aspiring to something that stinks most of the time. I finally made this deal with myself that I wouldn't panic about an audition until I had really prepared the scene. Because by the time you're prepared, you'll be past most of your panic.

Moloney: I decided after West Wing that I have really had the most incredible seven years of my life and I love my work and want to keep doing it. So I sat down and said, "What's the best way for me to do this profession and not have it hurt?" I decided the only way I could do it was to not be a perfectionist and have a good time and not be resentful or angry at people. It's tricky because I had to go right out there as if I never had a show and sit in the waiting room and go in and fall on the floor and take chances. At first it was really hard. Then I decided, "This is what I do." So I can sit around and hate these people for wanting me to prove that I can do whatever their role is, even if I can do it my sleep. But I thought, "I'm going to do it humbly, graciously, and with a certain amount of fun." Okay, fine, so I haven't gotten a job since I made that decision, but I'm having a good time and I feel I'm approaching it in the most healthy way possible.

Back Stage: What was the biggest challenge of being on the series?

Whitford: Early on I was always embarrassed because I felt so obscenely lucky as an actor to have a job this great that was commercially successful, and I didn't acknowledge that it's an adjustment. And even though you're lucky, you have to deal with those adjustments. Certainly in physical ways, you have to be careful. We were exhausted and going without sleep. There's this silent carnage of the unfucked wives and the children unread to. And you don't want to complain because the crew's working harder than you and you're getting to do something you love. But it's relentless.

Moloney: I think the hardest part for me was, there was a real inconsistency over the years with how much I got to do on the show.

Whitford: Right, you were often in a state of uncertainty.

Moloney: One week I would be just the secretary, and next week I would have this spectacular part. It was much more of a swing for me than any other character. There wasn't really anything I could do about it.

Whitford: You did, though. You advocated and they took you seriously.

Moloney: I know now that one of the most difficult things about running a show is servicing all the actors you love and know are really talented. The guys I know who run shows are desperately unhappy about it.

Whitford: I know from my dabbling in writing that when you write something, all the actors are like, "Am I in it?" And you can tell that they're hurt.

Moloney: One of the wonderful things about this show is that I got more and more to do as time went on, and that felt like such a compliment to me. I could be a hard character to work into the story lines because I wasn't one of the policy people. So thank God for Brad, because I was always in his story lines. In retrospect, I'm sorry that I did take it so hard. There was just such a passion and desire to participate, but I wish I had just gone skiing and not worried about it and had a little more fun.

Whitford: That's the other thing about being an actor: When I was struggling, I was always distracted by my own failure. I was too unemployed to read a book. You don't do the things you could have done, because you're obsessing over it.

Moloney: You could have written 10 books.

Back Stage: Is the ending of the show difficult or somewhat of a relief?

Whitford: The whole ending of the show was put into perspective when we lost John [Spencer]. A TV show is kind of puny compared to how we were feeling. It's funny: People come up to me and say, "Are you okay?" It's not like I have leukemia. My hit show just ended. I'll be okay.

Moloney: I felt really nervous for the show to be over because I thought I was going to be insane. I thought I would be at sea and not know who I was anymore. We all saw the end coming for a while, so I think that really helped. And I had so much wonderful stuff to do that it was a nice, strong, satisfying ending for me. But shockingly, I feel fine. And I'm surprised about it. That's typical of me: I'll feel horrible while the show is going and then fine when it's over.

Whitford: There was also a sense that ultimately we got a perfectly sized, complete run.

Moloney: It had a very organic beginning, middle, and end.

Whitford: There was no possibility of looking back at the end and feeling we missed something.

Moloney: You feel like you got the most incredible gift, and you would be completely ashamed of yourself to just not honor it. I'm excited I had the experience, not sad that it's over. And I'm looking forward to bringing all the stuff I learned on West Wing to someone else.

Moloney: I told Josh Malina, who's so mean and funny---

Whitford: Please tell everyone Josh Malina is a terrible, terrible actor.

Moloney: He asked what I was going to do after the show, and I said I didn't know, and he said, "What are you going to do? Take a year off and not do movies?" But I can't worry about it. The best advice anybody ever gave me was to say, "It's not your business."

Whitford: The best advice I ever got was from George, my 6-year-old son. He said, "Try your best without making yourself crazy."

Back Stage: And what's up next?

Whitford: I shot the pilot for Aaron's next series, Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.

Moloney: I'm auditioning, auditioning, auditioning. Trying my best to do my best without making myself crazy.

By DANIEL DE VISE
The Washington Post

The NBC program was television's homage to Washington, from its regal theme music and iconic imagery of the city to its celebration of leaks, news briefings and spin control.

Viewing parties popped up across the region. West Wing was, in many ways, a home-town show, as Cheers was for Boston and Seinfeld for Manhattan. For some, it was a little too close to home.

"It was exactly like watching work," said Adam Levine, a communications specialist in the District who was an assistant White House press secretary for two years under President Bush. "You'd sit there and you would have just come out of a meeting in the Roosevelt Room, and you'd flip on the show and they are all sitting there having a meeting in the Roosevelt Room."

The show wasn't necessarily water-cooler material inside the real West Wing, Levine said. But it was a beloved weekly ritual for many former West Wingers, some of whom, such as Levine, consulted for the show's writers.

The general consensus among fans, insiders and TV critics is that The West Wing began as a riff on the Clinton administration.
Jennifer Palmieri, a press aide during the Clinton years, recalls when the real West Wing learned of an early concept for the show.

"We heard it was going to be about a young former Southern governor who was divorced and had a 13-year-old daughter. Does that sound familiar? Except for the divorced part," she said. Producers ended up giving the fictional president a New Hampshire background and three daughters and patching up his marriage.

Palmieri, who lives in Alexandria, remembers when the cast came to visit their counterparts in summer 1999: John Podesta, Clinton's chief of staff and Palmieri's current boss, hung out with actor John Spencer; Press Secretary Joe Lockhart paired off with Allison Janney. But she stopped watching the show after the 2001 season because "when Gore lost, it was like being at your ex-boyfriend's wedding, every week."

Some of the program's best moments transcended partisan politics, as when, in a recent episode, victorious Democratic presidential candidate Matt Santos, played by Jimmy Smits, offers to make his vanquished foe, Alan Alda's Arnold Vinick, secretary of state.

Ultimately, The West Wing was not a program about politics, he said.

"I was always trying to write the best drama that I could write for television," O'Donnell said. "If it had been a politics show, it wouldn't have lasted a season."

The NBC political drama, which bid viewers farewell Sunday night, drew its biggest audience of the season: 10 million watched Martin Sheen's President Bartlet fly back to New Hampshire while Jimmy Smits's President Santos settled into the White House.

"The West Wing" averaged 8.1 million viewers this season, far from the glory days when it drew more than 17 million.

"Malcolm in the Middle" also left the airwaves Sunday to its season's best numbers. The show, which was averaging less than 4 million viewers, attracted 7.4 million for the finale. To boost "Malcolm's" fortunes, Fox aired the finale after "The Simpsons" instead of its regular 7 p.m. time slot.

CBS's "Survivor" franchise closed out its 12th installment with an audience of 17.1 million, the reality show's smallest season finale yet. The show suffered early this season when it went up against two other reality-show hits: ABC's "Dancing With the Stars" and Fox's "American Idol," which, during its first weeks, aired opposite "Survivor."

In the battle of dueling magicians, David Blaine burst Keith Barry's bubble. Blaine's breath-holding exercise May 8 in front of Lincoln Center attracted 10 million rubberneckers for ABC; Barry's celebrity-laden, card-trick and sleight-of-hand fest Friday night on CBS mustered just more than half that number.

In the network news wars, "CBS Evening News" was No. 2, ahead of ABC's "World News Tonight" for the first time in five years. The Bob Schieffer-led newscast, soon to be anchored by Katie Couric, averaged nearly 7.4 million viewers, just 80,000 more than ABC. NBC's "Nightly News" was first again, with 8.4 million.

The week's top 10 programs, in order, were: Fox's Tuesday and Wednesday "American Idol"; CBS's "CSI"; Fox's "House"; ABC's "Grey's Anatomy" and "Desperate Housewives"; CBS's "CSI: Miami," "Without a Trace," Sunday's "Survivor" finale and Thursday's "Survivor."

As a weekly series, The West Wing did more than "a lot of good."

It displayed a lot of quality, showing that weekly dramatic network television can survive and thrive on story lines dealing with words, ideas and personal relationships.

Not every series has to highlight carved-up corpses, gun-toting crazies and performers whose claim to TV fame is hunky bodies and visible bosoms.

Need a word to describe this Emmy-winning series?

How about integrity?

The finale, written by Denver's John Wells, the executive producer during its entire run, was in keeping with the show's tone.

The hour concentrated on the peaceful transition from Bartlet's administration to the new one under President-elect Matt Santos (Jimmy Smits).

There were no phony histrionics or unrealistic plot devices.

Wells' intelligent, well-coordinated script centered on the human element involving the emotional changing of the guard.

The reflective Bartlet camp was clearing out of the White House as the enthusiastic Santos people were moving in.

In a marvelous bit of production juxtaposition, scenes showed workers removing Bartlet's belongings from the Oval Office, while the Santos inauguration ceremonies were under way.

The sidebar story line, built up through the final season, dealt with the future of Toby Ziegler (Richard Schiff), Bartlet's presidential adviser who had leaked classified information during a conscience-stricken move.

Zielger - fired, tried and indicted - was facing a prison sentence.

President Bartlet, following agonizing moments of deliberation, signed a presidential pardon.

Of course such a decision was inevitable. This was fictional, happy-ending television.

But of equal importance, the story line was in keeping with Bartlet's character.

And the successful key was how the pardon was handled.

The script did not contain pandering scenes of Ziegler's reaction, or, heaven forbid, an unrealistic meeting between Bartlet and Ziegler.

There will never be another network series like The West Wing.

Such an assessment is based on the pragmatic world of network television and the show's onscreen quality.

Throughout network history, political dramas have been an anathema for network programmers for all the obvious reasons.

The West Wing entered the TV scene when the current extreme political polarization was building.

The fact a liberal-oriented series thrived and survived in the audience ratings in a hostile political climate indicated that some "passionate conservatives" respected the quality of a series that depicted White House life from more than just a political viewpoint.

Most characters had personalities and relationships that transcended politics.

Through the years the series introduced political villains - Democrats and Republicans.

Arnold Vinick (Alan Alda), the liberal Republican senator from California, originally was scheduled to win the election. But the death of John Spencer, who portrayed Leo McGarry, Bartlet's former chief of staff and Santos' running mate, changed the script.

The decision by Santos to name Vinick as secretary of state was anything but an outlandish political reach.

Network television will always feature "presidents" in their espionage series as either heroes or villains (think 24) as secondary characters.

Some have pointed to ABC's Commander in Chief, which faces cancellation, as a successor to The West Wing as a thoughtful presidential drama.

But even during its brief glory days last fall, the Geena Davis drama never displayed the depth of The West Wing.

Some critics feel The West Wing lost part of its power when co-producer Aaron Sorkin left in 2002.

While there was a brief decline in script quality, mainly in dialogue, The West Wing never lost its overall focus.

MSNBC's Chris Matthews put The West Wing in perspective, noting the series provided a vision of what many Americans of various political stripes hope could happen in the White House.

That was the power of The West Wing.

Hollywood.com: You’re at the end of a pretty phenomenal run with The West Wing. What’s next for you?

Allison Janney: I think now, I take a breath. I very much want to get back to Broadway, I want to do theater, I want to do movies and I’d like to take a break though and find my passion again because this has been an exhausting thing doing this show. It’s been so wonderful but I’d like to visit my family and get to know them again. Maybe take care of my relationship, my personal life, my friends.

HW: Was this going to be the last season no matter what?

AJ: I think so. It was ready, and then John [Spencer] dying, I felt, I can’t go on. I don’t want to. He’s my buddy, John and Brad [Whitford] and Richard [Schiff] and I had a special relationship, the four of us. It’s tough. I hate to see it go because it’s been so glorious. We don’t like to think of it as canceled. We like to think of it as reaching its conclusion and going off the air. I think we all knew, that when they changed our time. Maybe it’s a good thing. I don’t know, I guess we started to feel like maybe this is the end, and then as I said, when John died we all just felt that we all didn’t want to go on anyway, so it feels right. We’re all ready to move on. It’s sad, but…

HW: What happened to the show, in your view? Why did it lose momentum?

AJ: It was reality TV, that really put a dent in us the first time we saw slips in our ratings—The Bachelor was the first thing that dug into our ratings. That and the transition from Aaron going, getting our feet there and finding our way again.

HW: What would your career have been like without The West Wing?

AJ: At the time I got West Wing I was doing American Beauty and Nurse Betty, both those movies at the same time. Who knows? I probably would have continued doing movies. I think it would have been fine, it just would have been different. Now this has propelled me into that other category of celebrity, whatever that means. Sometimes I think it hurts you, sometimes I think it helps you in terms of the next role. People tend to typecast you. But thankfully I’ve done enough different roles in the past.

HW: What want to swipe from set as souvenir?

AJ: The president has these beautiful glass paperweight bowls on his desk that have beautiful things in them, and I want one of those. I’ve got to get a lot of White House pens. I love CJ’s chair in her office. And also a lot of my wardrobe. I have beautiful clothes—Armani suits and Max Mara, Calvin Klein.

HW: Will they let you take what you want?

AJ: I don’t know if they’re gonna know about it! They’ll probably let me have some things.

HW: Has doing this show made you political?

AJ: I’m definitely more aware. I’m not like Brad, on that level. He’s pretty involved. I am interested, but I don’t know if I can give up my life and go out and…Martin [Sheen] gives so much.

HW: When they changed your position on the show, how did things change for you?

AJ: It was more difficult. I didn’t have as much fun because of the responsibility. As press secretary it seemed that there were more chances for her to mess up and have fun. And as Chief of Staff she had to be in charge and delegate. I kept telling the writers, ‘I want her humor to come through more.’ I didn’t want her to just become the authoritative delegator. What’s so interesting is that our lives after West Wing are meshing. Every scene is sort of coping with that question.

HW: Where would you like to see CJ end up?

AJ: Where do you go after Chief of Staff? Maybe she’d work for another president some day. I think she’ll get married, have a dog. I think she wants to be the woman behind the curtain. I don’t think she wants to run for office. She could head a corporation. She’s very smart. There’s no end to what CJ could do.

HW: You had less romantic luck on the show than some of the others.

AJ: All of CJ’s lovers tend to spontaneously combust. I always thought Richard Schiff and I always had something going. I would have liked that. And there were a couple of guest stars I wouldn’t have minded. I loved my storyline with Mark Harmon. I loved that.

HW: They had to make set elements like the Oval Office desk and chair bigger on Commander in Chief for Geena Davis because of her height. Did they ever do it for you, or just tell you to duck down?

AJ: No. We have a lot of tall Secret Service men, and Alan Alda and Jimmy Smits are all tall. It never was an issue. Our costume designer always put me in heels, and sometimes I’d end up in fuzzy slippers anyway. I’d say, ‘can you see my feet?’ If they can’t I wear fuzzy slippers. It’s been hard being tall, but…

HW: Being so statuesque hasn’t seemed to hinder you.

AJ: It hasn’t yet, thank God.

HW: We love when you have scenes with tiny Kristin Chenoweth.

AJ: I wish we had more scenes together. Brad wrote that episode where I said, “Are we from the same species?”

HW: Was it harder being tall when you were younger?

AJ: I think so, I never had a date till I was in college because I was taller—at least that’s what I think it was.

HW: Did you always sit in the back of the class?

AJ: Yes, the back. And at the apex in the group pictures. Now I love it. It’s a commitment, though, because I love to wear heels, too. So I’m always impossibly tall.

HW: Do you have trouble finding shoes?

AJ: Not any more. A lot of people have size 11.

HW: Would you do another series?

AJ: Yeah I would, probably not another hour drama, at least right away. I want to see my family. I want to have a life a little bit. But it’s been the best job of my life so far. I can’t imagine doing another hour drama right away. I’ve always been interested in half hour comedy. Those were my roots before anything else, comedy. So if it comes along I definitely wouldn’t turn it down.

HW: Any projects on the horizon

AJ: Yes I do have some things, some plays. Nothing I’ve committed to yet, because I don’t want to commit to anything. I want to have a month at least to sit and relax and start thinking about it.

HW: And after a year of engagement, will you finally squeeze a wedding into your schedule?

AJ: I know. We’re not married yet and I think we’re finally going to do it. It’s been so difficult to plan it. It will be so nice to finally get married and take care of my man and take care if my dog and my mom and dad.

--Reporting by Gerri Miller

After watching Sunday's final episode of The West Wing, I understood that it's more than possible. It was like saying goodbye to a group of intimate friends with whom you won't even have the chance to exchange Christmas cards.

I was smitten with The West Wing from the beginning. I was drawn in by the literate dialogue and clever scripts and the fantasy of a president as endlessly quotable as Josiah "Jeb" Bartlett. But most of all, it was the three-dimensional characters with all their quirks and foibles and complex motivations and the uncanny sense that you've known them all your life.

But surely I understood the difference between fact and fiction. So why was I feeling so anxious and blue before Sunday's final episode?

It didn't help that the commercial breaks were dominated by melodramatic previews for the season finale of ER (a shootem-up in the emergency room. Yeah, right, happens all the time.) "Oh, please, please, don't let anything like this happen to my characters," I pleaded.

That's when I realized it: I had allowed myself to become emotionally involved with a television show. I was going to miss the Sam-and-Diane relationship dance of Josh and Donna, the loving combativeness of the first couple.

I wasn't the only Dayton-area viewer finding myself choked up. "I got a little teary," admitted Macy Janney, who watched her daughter Allison's final West Wing performance on Mother's Day.

Allison Janney, who grew up in Oakwood, rose to fame in the role of C.J. Cregg, Bartlett's press secretary and later chief of staff. Allison didn't give her mother any heads-up about the final episode. "I stopped asking years ago," Macy said.

So she watched with the same suspense as the rest of us. She savored the Hitchcock touch of the cameo appearance by series creator Aaron Sorkin. She appreciated the subtle, naturalistic conclusion to each of these characters' stories. No mass shootings, thank God. "It was bittersweet," Macy said.

She felt proud of what her daughter had accomplished with both this role and with her career, learning to balance her personal life with a role that often demanded 14-hour days. "C.J. was like Allison in her sensitivity, and in being a very caring person, but it was more buried with C.J.," her mother said.

Janney revealed her character's vulnerability more and more as the series progressed. NBC's back-to-back showing of the first and final episodes made it clear how Janney had transformed her ensemble role into the show's emotional centerpiece. Janney did more acting, with fewer words, than any actress I've seen in a long time.

Macy Janney said her daughter will miss the rest of the cast but is looking forward to new acting challenges. "Personally, I'd like to see her back on the stage," she said.

You don't need to be a proud mother to hope you'll see Allison Janney again soon, on any stage or screen.

But I'm still going to miss C.J. terribly. And I refuse to get emotionally involved with another TV show, never ever.

This thing with Boston Legal? Just a flirtation.

These folks aren't real, you know.

Trailing the three other major networks as it nears the end of its second post-"Friends" TV season, NBC is desperate for new hits to reclaim its longtime dominance in the ratings race for viewers most coveted by advertisers, those aged 18 to 49.

Now the broadcaster controlled by General Electric Co. has decided to bank its turnaround on a slate of six new dramas. These include "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" from Aaron Sorkin, whose previous TV creation, the landmark political drama "The West Wing," ended its Emmy-winning seven-year NBC run on Sunday.

NBC executives said new dramas have proven far easier than comedies for all the networks to get off the ground in recent years. Only one sitcom, "Two and a Half Men" on CBS, ranks among the top 20 shows most watched in prime time this season.

Sorkin's latest drama also is notable for an all-star cast that includes "West Wing" veteran Bradley Whitford and another familiar face from one of NBC's past hits, Matthew Perry, best known as Chandler Bing of "Friends."

They play producers struggling to boost the ratings of a fictional late-night TV sketch show. Popular film actress Amanda Peet co-stars as a new network executive they work for.

The show-within-a show formula also is the premise of a new comedy NBC plans to roll out next season, "30 Rock," starring "Saturday Night Live" talent Tina Fey as the head writer of a late-night TV variety show. Alec Baldwin co-stars in the show.

While Perry is returning to NBC's prime-time schedule in a drama, the network has pulled the plug on "Joey," the "Friends" spinoff of his former sitcom cohort Matt LeBlanc, due to anemic ratings. NBC also opted not to renew its high-profile Pentagon drama "E-Ring" with veteran movie actor Dennis Hopper.

Among the new series taking their place are a high school football drama "Friday Night Lights"; crime drama "Kidnapped," centered on the abduction of a teenage boy; and "Heroes," about a group of ordinary people who find they have super powers.

But "Studio 60" was the clear centerpiece of the 2006-07 schedule NBC showcased on Monday at New York's Radio City Music Hall, opening the so-called annual "upfront" presentations by the major networks for leading advertisers.

"Studio 60" also marks Sorkin's first big project since he left "West Wing" in 2003 amid reports of problems with production delays and cost overruns.

Although widely acclaimed as one of TV's most gifted writer-producers, Sorkin has struggled in the past with drug abuse. The Wall Street Journal reported that NBC executives addressed those issues in a meeting last fall and were reassured he was up for running a new series.

"Aaron's back on his game," NBC Entertainment President Kevin Reilly told reporters on a conference call. "He's in good health, and he's one of a kind."

Reilly also acknowledged that his network was "coming off another tough season." But he called it a "banner year for NBC development" and said executives have changed the way they approach the schedule.

"If we didn't examine ourselves over the past couple of seasons, I think we'd be nuts," he said.

Industry observers have taken a cautious stance on this year's upfront market -- the spring period when NBC, CBS, ABC, and Fox typically book 70 percent to 80 percent of commercial time. Competition from other forms of media meant extra leverage for advertisers last year, when spending slipped about 2 percent to $9.1 billion. This year, revenue is forecast to come in again at the $9.1 billion mark or slightly less.

Executives from NBC also acknowledged on the call that the upfront market "doesn't look terribly robust" this year.

Among the new series taking their place are a high school football drama "Friday Night Lights"; crime drama "Kidnapped," centered on the abduction of a teenage boy; and "Heroes," about a group of ordinary people who find they have super powers.

But "Studio 60" was the clear centerpiece of the 2006-07 schedule NBC showcased on Monday at New York's Radio City Music Hall, opening the so-called annual "upfront" presentations by the major networks for leading advertisers.

"Studio 60" also marks Sorkin's first big project since he left "West Wing" in 2003 amid reports of problems with production delays and cost overruns.

Although widely acclaimed as one of TV's most gifted writer-producers, Sorkin has struggled in the past with drug abuse. The Wall Street Journal reported that NBC executives addressed those issues in a meeting last fall and were reassured he was up for running a new series.

"Aaron's back on his game," NBC Entertainment President Kevin Reilly told reporters on a conference call. "He's in good health, and he's one of a kind."

Reilly also acknowledged that his network was "coming off another tough season." But he called it a "banner year for NBC development" and said executives have changed the way they approach the schedule.

"If we didn't examine ourselves over the past couple of seasons, I think we'd be nuts," he said.

Industry observers have taken a cautious stance on this year's upfront market -- the spring period when NBC, CBS, ABC, and Fox typically book 70 percent to 80 percent of commercial time. Competition from other forms of media meant extra leverage for advertisers last year, when spending slipped about 2 percent to $9.1 billion. This year, revenue is forecast to come in again at the $9.1 billion mark or slightly less.

Executives from NBC also acknowledged on the call that the upfront market "doesn't look terribly robust" this year.